October 31st, 2007—The Halloween Night. It's very common, debatably even part of the tradition, in the US that in the last day of October, deemed Halloween, people get in their scary costumes and go out in the streets to ask for candy—trick or treating. Although, most teens and young adults go into the more mature side of the night: houseparties, alcohol, slutty costumes and even drugs. It's complete chaos.

It's been a while since Sam and Dean have had some fun, especially after their father's death. Dean 'suggested' but then proceeded to drag his poor younger brother to some stranger's house—under the pretense of Sam needing to let off some steam, maybe even 'get laid'—sneaking into the party like little intruders. Their costumes are nothing fancy: Sam is dressed as a knock-off zombie with fake blood everywhere and some ragged clothes, and Dean just got a Ghost Face mask—how creative.

And that's exactly how Sam finds himself at the moment—being shoved around in the small space, walking in the little floor that isn't covered by feet dancing and jumping. It's nightmare fuel. Dean is nowhere to be seen, probably already flirting with pretty girls in short skirts and black cat ears. The younger Winchester makes his way to the table where a mini bar is stablished and there's where he sees him.

A guy standing near the table, grabbing himself a beer bottle, he's tall but not taller than Sam, has a beautiful long mane of hair and then the most striking thing: the guy is wearing a vampire costume, but not any vampire, the king himself, Alucard from Castlevania. That fact spikes Sam's interest by a thousand percent and he nudges the man with a hint of hesitation—because of course he'd have a tiny bit of social anxiety in a place like this.

"Hey, I like your costume. You're... dressed as Alucard, right? From the Symphony of the Night game." Sam asks the man, but then quickly realizes how much of a nerd he sounds like. Dear, this man looks almost otherworldly. "Your hair is very nice. Is it... is it real?" He mentally facepalms himself—very smooth, Winchester. He clears his throat, trying once again. "I, uh- You are...? Your name?"